Not a Clue

Austin and I decided to be social and signed up for our church dinner party, even though we don't know anyone in our ward. This was a highly coordinated event where each table had a host and hostess, different theme, assigned dishes, assigned tables, etc. Sort of like a Mormon Mission Impossible. Austin had been recieving phone calls from our hostess, Sister Allred, (Stake President's wife) all week to prepare us.

When we got there, I peeked in the kitchen to find a homeless woman helping the Relief Society President prepare food. "Hi?" I ventured. "Oh hi!" she exclaimed, coming out to greet us. Even with dirty smudges all over her faces, crazy hair, and a raggedy skirt, she seemed likeable and friendly. "You're not dressed like hobos?!" Okay, and a little crazy.

Austin and I looked at each other. "Ummm...we must not have gotten that message." Could this be the mysterious Sister Allred? She glanced at my decadent German Chocolate Cheesecake atop my Martha Stewart cake stand. "Oooh, it looks so fancy! It'll put the rest of the hobo food to shame." She glanced at our dressy clothes one more time. I hung my head and shuffled along behind her as she led us to a gathering of hobos; I felt like we had been caught trying to out-class the rest of the table as she set our cheesecake next to a bunch of tinfoil dishes.

Just then, an impeccably groomed woman in her 60s came over with a smile. "Hi, our table is right over here!" I stared dumbly at her. I looked confusedly at Hobo Lady standing next to us. I glanced helplessly at my husband, then back at Impeccable Lady. "Ummm, are you Sister Allred?"

I have a suspicion that that is why when the Bishop asked what the theme of our table was, the Stake President's wife said, "We're the Clue table--no, the Not-a Clue table!"

Vegetarian Day

In an effort to simplify our lives, Austin and I have a weekly pattern that we create our menu around:

Monday=Mexican Day

Tuesday=Italian Day

Wednesday=Soup Day

Thursday=Asian Day

Friday=Pizza

Saturday=Breakfast for Supper

Sunday=Crockpot Day

I was toying with the idea of making Thursday Vegetarian Day, but I don't really know how to make vegetarian food, and most of my meat-free meals fall under different categories, e.g., Mexican day.

Anyway, Austin and I have been watching the DVD series Planet Earth, and I realized that humans are the only species that care about 1.) not eating other species and 2.) humanely killing what they eat. (This revelation came after the fruit-eating chimps deviated from their fruitivore ways and ripped the face off another chimp and ate it.) Humans also uniquely worry about eating too much of any one species, rendering it open to extinction. (This based on the cute Artic fox trying to fit as many cute ducklings as possible in its mouth when the parents weren't watching.)

Nature is not really a touchy-feely sort of place. Animals just eat what their bodies tell them to eat and that is the end of it. Whales, for example, don't organize their week into Krill day and Plankton day and Kelp day. Nope, animals live the simple life and eat what comes their way. And if nothing comes their way, they die.

The Wake Up Call

Through a vague haze of sleep I dimly sensed a dark presence hovering silently next to our bed. "Austin!" I nudged my husband. A strangled groan was my only response; I resigned myself to my fate. "Come on, Sammy, let's go back to bed." 4:30 a.m. is just a bit too early to let your children stay up.

Yesterday I came up with the ingenious idea of plugging Christmas lights into a timer in Sammy's room and telling her she couldn't get up unless the lights were on. It worked out pretty well this morning. Yes, I was feeling pretty crafty until I read my sister's blog.... making homemade chocolates with all the neighbor kids, treasure hunts with the family, crafts and murals and field trips with the kids--how can I compete? The answer is, I can't. I'm not getting enough sleep at night, I'm lazy, and I think I lost my imagination somewhere around age 12.

I can see it now--the family reunion where my kids realize that they got the boring parents. "Can we go live with Aunty Anna?" "No! Now go watch some tv or something."

On a more serious note, I am a bit worried about having lost my imagination, so I'm working on the book again. Just to prove that I still can tell a story.

"My life is dedicated to the people of Naboo..."

This is a picture of the nursing pillow that my sister-in-law passed down to me. Interestingly enough, this nursing pillow has never actually been used for nursing. Felicity loves to lay on it and look around and has been practicing sitting up the past few days. (Not quite ready yet.)

Recently, my husband has discovered the joys of the nursing pillow as well. It is used primarily as a laptop rest, occasionally as a Queen Amidala-style headdress, (still trying to get a picture of that) and once or twice as a neck rest. (Um, hon, you know that's a nursing pillow, right?)

I guess I don't own a lot of unnecessary baby gear after all.

Sucker...

A few days after the Cinderella Sucker episode I made a run to the grocery store with my two girls to pick up some kleenex and juice for my sick husband. Sammy sat in the back of the cart and Felicity's car seat was up front. That car seat in front makes it a little hard to see around her to steer, but I made it through the store with no problems and even rarer--no impulse buys!

Anyway, while checking out, the cashier lady asked me if my girls could have a sucker. Not wanting to be the anal mom that won't let her kid have a sucker, I said, "Sure, just one though--this one's too small." (Gesturing to Felicity in her car seat.)

"Oh, no, the baby will feel sad if she doesn't get a sucker too!" The kind lady exclaimed, and then proceeded to hand two suckers to my two-year-old child. (Presumably, one was for Felicity?) Not just any suckers though. These were the EXACT SAME SUCKERS the ballerinas at Cinderella gave us. Red. Big. Messy. And now Sammy was holding two of them.

I just stood there with my mouth open. You can never think of the right thing to say when these things happen to you, such as: "My baby is 4 months old, lady! The only thing she likes to suck on are my boobs!" No, you think of those zingers on the long car ride home as you try to trick your ecstatic two-year-old into handing over her suckers.

The Special Date

Austin had the great idea of taking Sammy to the ballet performance of Cinderella. We told her we were taking her on a Special Date. BYU was having a matinee and especially inviting kids to come. Sammy got to dress up in her princess outfit and we got to meet the beautiful ballet dancers beforehand. (We stayed away from Prince Charming--he looked a little sketch.) I was a little nervous about how Sammy would do watching the performance but she really liked it and asked a ton of questions about the dancers. (Mom: Quiet voice! Quiet voice!)

The only downside was that some ding-dong decided it would be a good idea to give all the kids big red heart suckers for the perforance. Two sticky hands, three stains on her white turtleneck, fifteen queries after her sucker's whereabouts, and fifty-six (Mom: Quiet Voice!)'s later, we decided to leave during the second! intermission. (It was a little long.)

Sammy didn't mind leaving--probably since she knows the story of Cinderella by heart (and frequently asks me to co-star as the Wicked Step-Sister ripping her dress and the Fairy Godmother singing Bibbiti-Bobbiti-Boo to fix it).

Hopefully she will have fond memories of our Special Date. Probably not, since she's only two, but at least we have the pictures to prove we went.

Good Thing They're Cute...

I went into the bathroom to *ahem* do my business yesterday and Sammy followed me in, bringing her step stool with her. I didn't realize what she was doing until she sat down across from me and started reading me books. So nice of her to entertain Mom while she sits on the toilet--I guess all my potty training has been good for something!

Felicity has started trying to suck both of her thumbs at the same time--I love seeing her with one thumb stuck up in each corner of her big grin!

Sammy has been calling me "hon" for the past two days. "Hon, I need a cookie!" "Read me a book, hon!" Not sure whether to be charmed or annoyed...

Adam's Rib

Austin and I watched this the other night--I really enjoyed it. It's a man vs. woman theme and since Austin and I had been bickering the past couple of days we could really relate. I like both the lead actors, and the dialogue was funny and smart.
I watched commercials for movies during the Super Bowl and all of them seemed like they were a mixture of constant action and stupidity. It's nice to get done watching a movie and feel like not only were you entertained, but you gained some life insight as well. So if you are looking for something to watch on a free night, this is a good one.

Skinny Jeans

I bought skinny jeans. Yes, I know--the only people who look good in them have the body of a 14-year-old and no hips. However, thanks to the miracle of breastfeeding, I now weigh the same as I did when I was 14. Unfortunately, thanks to the miracle of childbirth, my hips are a lot wider than when I was 14. So they aren't great for my body shape, but they look great with my boots. I've started looking around me and realizing that I'm going to have to move out of my comfort zone of flare and boot-cut. All the cool people are wearing skinny jeans.

One of my favorite poems I found in college:

(Lest you should think that I don't love my hips)
homage to my hips
by Lucille Clifton

these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!